‘The Sparkley Clean Funeral Singers’ @ Capital Rep, 7/10/13

ALBANY — “The Sparkley Clean Funeral Singers,” being given its world premiere by Capital Repertory Theatre, needs a new title. The incongruity of the words in the moniker suggests it’s a comedy, and the marketing makes the pitch explicit, calling the show “the comic country musical!”

It’s not, at least not in the production being presented at Capital Rep through Aug. 4. “Sparkley Clean” is a wistful, tuneful look at life’s disappointments, second chances and the straitened roles we allow circumstance to impose on us. The show’s strongest moments have nothing to do with humor but with grief, familial love and self-confidence. During those scenes “Sparkley Clean” is excellent and deserving of continuing improvement from its creators.

Among the problems with the off-key title is that it sets up the wrong expectations. I eavesdropped during intermission on Wednesday night and heard at least three conversations that included some variation of, “It started slowly, but now I’m really enjoying it.” I understood the sentiment. For me, it wasn’t until the sixth song of the first act, a number called “Love Hangs On,” that the tone of the production and performances synched with the material, and the family in the story made sense in the way they were being portrayed.

“Sparkley Clean” refers to a dry-cleaning shop in roughly contemporary Tennessee that’s owned by the remnants of the Lashley family, whose matriarch disappeared 35 years ago: older sister Junie (Lori Fischer, writer of the show’s book and co-writer of its music and lyrics), who’s in her 40s, insecure and has always sung backup, literally and figuratively, to her prettier younger sister, Lashley Lashley, in the family’s country-music group; Lashley (Carter Calvert), who’s a vocal powerhouse but struggles with alcoholism; and their Alzheimer’s-addled father, Lyle (Reathel Bean), who alternates periods of mental haze and clarity but always mourns his vanished wife.

The show starts with a light, often joking air as we learn that the Lashley sisters are working at the family shop because their small-time musical career imploded after the younger sister, while drunk, drove their tour bus into a pet store. (During “Big Time Plans” she sings about the difficulty of being a country star after killing puppies.) A local minister, Pastor Phil (Jesse Lenat), recruits them to sing during funerals. Tasked to deliver songs written for the deceased, they come up with numbers including “St. Peter, If You’re Listening, Tell Arthur Reid Hello” and “All You Can Eat Liver and Onions.” The latter mentions not only the departed’s favorite meal but also his fondness for model trains.

Fischer wrote the musical “Barbara’s Blue Kitchen,” which began life at Adirondack Theatre Festival about a decade ago before it went on to runs in the Berkshires and off-Broadway. She’s still working to find a balance between the new show’s comedy and seriousness. The humor often feels glib and forced (“I still can’t believe Buzz tripped on his own facial hair and died”), but the more somber material doesn’t. Soon after Lashley sings about her drunken exploits (“I woke up in Tucson/with a hangover and a ring on”), she and Junie argue about their respective memories of their mother, with Junie accusing, “You got a whole different Mama jammed up in your head,” which leads into the touching, raw “Love Hangs On,” followed by Lyle’s befogged lament for his beloved, “Sweet Macaroons.”

When the show’s emotion lands squarely, as it does there and, later, in triumphal songs when Junie learns to finally sing lead, “Sparkley Clean” is deeply satisfying. These are believably flawed, relatable people, and the actors fill them with individuality. Fischer is the core of the story, showing us that Junie’s dedication to the shop and her father’s care sidetracked her and as well as gave her the resolve to eventually find the life she wants. Calvert’s Lashley is a flashy blonde with a bold voice and insecurities she medicates with alcohol, and, as the minister with a gambling problem, Lenat looks like he’s always about the come apart at the seams. Bean doesn’t overplay Lyle’s Alzheimer’s; his character has to just be, most of the time, though when he sings, adding strong baritone lines to the quartet, he’s steadying, invaluable.

Fischer is again working with director Martha Banta, co-founder and former artistic director of Adirondack Theatre Festival, who directed “Barbara’s Blue Kitchen.” (Banta alternates between small new works and smash Broadway musicals; she’s resident director of “Mamma Mia” and also director of “Filming O’Keefe,” now in its world premiere at ATF.) Together they’re sure to fix minor problems with the story, including the unsatisfying, abrupt resolution to the mother’s disappearance.

Working on an attractive, smartly designed set by David Esler and supported by a sharp band led by Don Chaffer, who co-wrote the music and lyrics, Fischer and Banta create an often moving story about love, loss and finding your way. “Sparkley Clean” could work with a strong boost to the comedy, perhaps, though it would be better with more attention given to its large heart — and a new title.